


False Spirea

by Greyneurosis (Spylace)



Series: Florigraphy [3]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fangirl!Mako, Gen, M/M, also in denial, also ships hot dads, but still saves the world, chuck is devious, imagine the abs of steel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 06:04:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spylace/pseuds/Greyneurosis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the pilots are ordered to do a bikini car wash for charity. </p><p>Sadly for Chuck and Raleigh, the Marshal ships Chaleigh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	False Spirea

**Author's Note:**

> Repost from tumblr; crisisinyoureyes wanted a bikini car wash :D

Everyone knew Pentecost would do anything to keep the PPDC running.

What Raleigh didn’t know was why he had to be paired up with the biggest douchebag on his side of the hemisphere. He had vastly underestimated the depraved lengths the Marshal would go to squeeze out that extra dime.

After her initial success, fans all across the globe were buying up Mako’s comics like they were going out of style. A week of being hounded by the media, catcalls every which room he ducked into like ‘where’s your other half’, or worse—‘where’s your  _wife_ ’, Raleigh was done. He didn’t care if pictures of him and Chuck in the same frame brought people great joy, he couldn’t stand the asshole with his defiant swagger and attitude problem. Why was Mako doing this to him? Was he being punished? He though they’d  _connected_ , he honestly thought they had something special.

But while Mako stood in her cute pink water wings writing down names of donors who’d paid exorbitant amount of money just to have jaeger pilots wash their cars—with no more jaegers, they had to use the loading bay for _something_ —he waited with his arms crossed, impatient as Chuck finally made his way over to where Gipsy had once stood.

It wasn’t like Chuck was any happier about the situation. He’d nearly put a fist through Pentecost’s desk when the rosters were put up, paired neatly with Raleigh as though it was even a surprise anymore.

_“Why can’t I do it with my dad?”_

_“As a veteran pilot and the second-in-command of the Resistance, I think your father is above menial labor.”_

_“With all due respect sir, we saved the world.”_

_“ **Precisely** ”_

The Kaidanovskys were put together. While Sasha lounged back on her deckchair sipping juice, Aleksis flexed his enormous biceps, threatening to break anyone who dared to pin their gaze too long on his wife’s bare legs. With a throaty chuckle, Sasha Kaidanovsky sashayed up to him causing men and no small amount of women to swoon. She stood by idly, drumming her manicured fingers against the rear bumper as her husband soaped up the sides.

To his right were the Wei triplets, moving onto their third car. Their specialty thunder cloud formation out in full display, they moved with terrifying efficiency like the parts of a well-oiled machine. Wash, scrub, rinse—as Jin, the youngest, amused their admirers with teasing glimpses of his washboard abs and dimples, his older brothers processed each car like putting down a mark.

Raleigh wondered what other shady businesses Pentecost engaged aside from Hannibal Chau’ black market connections.

“Oi, whatcha standin’ ‘round for?”

Raleigh was about to snap that it was Chuck who was late when all manners of protest screeched to a halt behind his teeth. He gaped for a moment, aware that he was looking like fish and there were  _customers_  who were honking for their attention. Groping for words, he raised a hand before letting it fall. Raleigh pulled the younger man aside.

“What is wrong with you?” He whisper-shouted. “What are you wearing?!”

Chuck pushed him off.

The Australian pilot wore a tight wetsuit that revealed much more than anything it covered up. Seemingly oblivious to the problems at hand, Chuck wrinkled his nose and asked “What, do I have something on my face? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

It would have been adorable if it wasn’t so frustrating by half. And if it wasn’t Chuck. Already, flashes were starting, cameras rolling like they were the next heirs to Genovia instead of regular guys who happened to be caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He took a deep breath and turned on the hose. The weak drizzle from the spout turned into something like a gush from an arterial vein. It seemed like an apt comparison to the train wreck that was about to happen.

Chuck stretched languid across the front of the car, like he might like to get to know it a little better, spine arching like the bow of a bridge. Water splashing down his swimming shorts, Raleigh stared. He could literally hear the jaws drop across the entire loading bay. Even Tendo, supervising from atop of the rafters, looked stunned.

“This is impossible, you are impossible, you are not  _human_.” Raleigh stressed.

The younger man rolled his eyes.

“What  _now_?”

“I hope you know” Raleigh said with fervent loathing. “I blame you for everything.”

Bored, Chuck replied “Bring it.”

Raleigh smashed his mouth against Chuck’s.

Foot stuck in a bucket, he lifted Chuck in one heave and slammed him against the hood of the red Rolls-Royce Specter. The driver inside let out an astonished squeak as sudsy water sprayed all over her windshield, rolling down in foamy clouds.

“Where’s the zipper on this thing?” Raleigh hissed, fingers spreading open the younger man’s thighs.

“The  _back_  you wanker, the back—no, not that far  _down_ —!”

Someone had the sense to dump water on them.

 

Late at night, there was a knock at her door. Thinking that maybe it was Yu-Na, her colorist, or even her father checking to see that she was getting enough rest in between storyboarding, she opened the door and quickly regretted it. But before she could push it closed, Chuck thrust a hot thermos through the opening and wedged an elbow in.

“Chuck” She huffed, annoyed. “I am busy.”

“I bring gifts.”

Chuck grinned with far too many teeth, Mako observed. She stared woefully at her half-finished illustrations, unable to decide which select few would make it to print and which wouldn’t. That was up to Sasha to decide and Hermann if he could find the time in his busy work day.

In his hand, Chuck held a phone filled with glossy pictures of their fathers laughing together, sharing a drink with Sasha Kaidanovsky.

Herc Hansen wore a Hawaiian shirt with a colorful print, garlands of orange hibiscus hung from shoulder to shoulder, beige cut-offs show casing his muscled calves. Meanwhile, Stacker Pentecost had forgone his uniform jacket and rolled up his sleeves, bare flesh showing like a page out of a Victorian novella.

Mako felt her face grow hot and swallowed, fingers reaching out to grasp at empty air.

“Nuh-uh” Chuck taunted the way he always did when he wanted something very, very badly. He made himself comfortable against her collection of jaeger dakimakura. Absentmindedly, he picked at the frayed corner of Gipsy. She remembered he had gotten it for her fifteenth birthday. “So I have an idea for this series of yours…”


End file.
